Michael's Christmas
by Genicise1275
Summary: Christmas time is here, but Michael isn't jolly and excited, why? Read and find out. Rated T for minor language


Michael's Christmas

Christmas is coming and that meant getting off school until next year, I'm dreading it as I have to spend it with the grotesque man who is my father. It is coming up to the last few days of school and we have covered everything in the syllabus, now the last few days are dedicated to having some Christmas fun. I never feel like Christmas is a jolly holiday for me since I have to spend it with my father. That included a Christmas concert featuring hymns and carols for Christmas, the reasoning behind not doing so many Christmas songs was they were too difficult for us to learn. This is our last practice before we are due to perform, but I'm not excited, I'm nothing, but numb. My parents wouldn't come to see me sing, they never would. My dad never believed I am good at anything I was always the kid nobody wanted so Christmas to me is like another day. We for some reason had to perform in the church, I don't like this idea very much. How hypocritical of them to force me to sing carols and hymns from the hymn books as if everything is ok. It isn't all fine and dandy as everyone seems to think, not in my mind it's not. Try getting raped on your birthday, that'll change your view of how cruel the world really is.

The kids in South Park I really admire for the way they handle difficult subjects like sex and alcohol and abuse, but not me I can't deal with it, I simply cannot. Christmas never is and never will be part of my life, that's not because I'm Jewish or Buddhist, my father makes the atmosphere at home very uncomfortable and Christmas comes and goes without a hint.

I wake up and my eye and head are pounding against my skull making me just lay there, John let out a yelp when he saw my eye swollen shut. He had been out during the night whilst my father struck and didn't know anything about it. He called mum as I tried to get up, but my efforts are futile as I slump back on my bed.  
"You can't go to school with an eye like that. You'll have to stay at home until the swelling disappears. John, you have to stay at home with him. Don't let him out and don't let anyone see him looking like this".  
I'm sure she's trying to protect me from unwanted publicity, but I think her intention was in fact to protect the family (and my father in particular) from the awkward questions people would have.

In the build-up to Christmas this year, I was laying in my bed next to John and I turn to him, "Is there really a Santa Claus and how does he manage to get round all the children in the world in one night; I wondered if his journey was made easier because he doesn't visit naughty little boys like me".  
I think my question irritated John because he stood up abruptly calming himself before replying, "No you're not naughty, our dad is wrong, we're not naughty in fact there aren't really any naughty children on Christmas, but there are evil bastards like our father who want to spoil things for children and stop them from having fun. People like our father is an evil bastard, mum does her best to make Christmas for us, but I see him every Christmas take all her money and force her to buy him presents instead".  
"Oh right".  
"Besides our father is so diabolical that he's definitely on Santa's naughty list and he has been for some time".  
"If I'm not naughty then why don't I get any presents?"  
"Easy, I hate to tell you that it's all our fathers' doing, he takes them from you. You're better off without any presents from him. He doesn't give them because he cares about us, no… he does it to make us keep quiet. He's a liar and I despise him".

The next day I finally return to school, I see that the school and South Park really have the Christmas spirit, the school celebrated the holiday season in many ways, the build-up to Christmas is beyond what I've encountered before. The school is doing the nativity play featuring everyone from Kindergarten to third grade so I guess I'm in it and we apparently perform in front of the parents. My parents wouldn't come, they never see me do anything to make them proud. I think my father just forgets to remind mum and therefore they don't show. I had never been inside a church before, as we were walked to it, my anxiety kicked in as I worry about what it is all about. I never did the nativity before so I assume the worst from it.

I quickly realised that I have overstepped my mark on the nativity being a bad thing, I actually enjoyed practicing the play not that anyone will come to see me. It was time to do the actual performance, its 2 o'clock and the church is filling up. The classes walked into the church, the air is bitterly cold as I struggle to keep warm not that I care. I look around the church and see the cross with a man named Jesus, I was never the religious type so I look at the audience for this play as the vicar came over and shook our hands for some reason. I felt a pang of anxiety, thinking that he'd sense that I am naughty like my father assured me I was, John denies this and I want to believe him. I was worried he'd sense this and throw me out of the church, but he didn't, instead he shook my hand and told me to take a seat on the pew with my friends.  
"Hey Michael, I was a little worried about you".  
"Oh really Stan, why would you be?"  
"I don't know, it doesn't feel like you celebrate Christmas".  
"Oh I do, it's just I don't get excited like most kids do when they wake on Christmas morning to a tree decorated with lights and tinsel, presents piled high for us to open".  
"Surely you do, so what are you getting this year?"  
"I dunno, nothing most likely".  
Stan's jaw dropped when I admitted that, "You don't get anything?"  
"No I don't".  
"That's insane! How could you, not get gifts?"  
"I just don't, ok so please drop it".  
"Ok, ok I'll just get you something so that you have something to open on Christmas morning".  
"Ok thanks", I said sighing.  
"I most likely be locked in that cupboard downstairs all Christmas", I thought.  
Everywhere I looked, I saw magnificent colours, windows that told stories and odd faces carved in stone. This is an incredible place and I wondered if Jesus and God lived here. As I wondered I realised that I was thinking like a Christian and I brushed the thoughts away.

The vicar, dressed in his black robes and his white-collar that vicars wear, explained to us that we were to start with a few carols and hymns from the hymn book. I found this to be strange as I thought we were doing the nativity play. The next thing he said caught my attention.  
"They are all around us now, protecting us all and keeping us safe from evil. They are with the good people and children all the time, looking after us in our homes, as we eat, play and sleep".  
I found this hard to believe and shook my head and sub-consciously I stood up and confronted him, "Why do you believe that, when they don't seem to be living in my home, I think the devil is in the cupboard under my stairs?"  
I think I stunned him as he didn't say anything in return, he just looked at Mr Mackey with pleading eyes as to say 'please sort him out'. As promised I'm dragged to the side by Mr Mackey and told off for saying such things in church and to keep quiet. I obliged as I wanted to sing and do the school play.

Stan looked at me with sympathy in his eyes, "What was that all about?"  
"Nothing, just drop it".  
"But Michael…"  
"Stan, please just drop it!"  
"Ok fine, I was just trying to help".  
I shook my head and ignored him the rest of the day, we began singing carols and the vicar actually praised me for my beautiful singing, yeah my tone-deaf singing got praise, I hate to listen to his choir. The audience watching smiled as we sang like they were genuinely enjoying us sing, a feeling of warmth is building on my chest as I stopped singing for a moment. I saw three empty chairs and that's when it hit home, my parents couldn't be bothered to come. I'm sure my mum would've wanted to come, but my father probably has her occupied deliberately. My eyes started welling up and Mr Mackey seemed to notice as his expression changed to a sad sympathetic gaze. I took a seat and I saw Mr Mackey guide himself from his seat and motioned for me to join him. He took me outside the church, "Michael I think things aren't working out too well, is that right?"  
"No I guess they're not, Mr Mackey, my parents don't care enough to come to my first nativity play".  
"I'm sure they love you, look when this is all over, why don't you see me for the rest of the day and you can vent mkay".  
"Whatever you think you know about my parents you have it all wrong, but sure I'll see you afterwards".  
"Mkay now let's get you back inside to do the play mkay".  
I nod as I followed Mr Mackey before peeling off up to the stage and this time ignoring the fact that my parents aren't sitting in those chairs, I looked back and saw my brother, John sitting in one of the vacant seats. I smiled and it gave me some confidence to perform. After the performance, the vicar gave each of us a gift, a small book – the New Testament and Psalms, he wished us all a very happy Christmas.  
"Yeah fat chance of my Christmas to be very happy", I muttered.

We returned to school for the final few hours of the penultimate day of term, to my surprise I remember not seeing any teachers apart from Mr Mackey whom I have to see in his office.  
"Michael, remember I need to see you in my office mkay".  
"Oh right sure, Mr Mackey".  
I walked into his office and sat opposite him in the middle of the room, "Mkay I know something is going on Michael and I would like to get to the bottom of this, mkay".  
I sigh, "I know, but it's… difficult".  
"Ok, but it will be better than bottling up any more, whatever it is we can help you mkay, that's why I'm a counsellor, so we can stay as long as we need to, there are no lessons today so we can spend as much time as you need mkay".  
"My parents… don't really care about me and my brother".  
"Mkay, is it ok if I write notes of what you're saying?"  
I nod, "Ok thank you, why do you think they don't care about you and your brother?"  
"Well they never go to my performances, they never take part in… actually my mum does take part, but my dad is well not a nice man".  
"Ok so it's your dad that's the problem".  
"Yeah, ever since I was born, he hated me, I can't see sense, as to why… on my birthday or any day for that matter, he'd make sure that I'm not loved".  
Mr Mackey sat there silent as I burst into tears, he turned and grabbed his box of tissues as he placed them near me, he put his hand on mine, chanting 'it's ok'.  
"What sort of stuff does he do to you?"  
"He uses… me as a human punching bag… he m-molested me on my birthday".  
I saw him shake his head, instinctively I looked away with a cold look, "You don't believe me, do you?"  
"I'm just getting some answers, Michael of course I believe this is happening".  
"He's always like this, controlling, a bully, you understand why I blurted during your assembly about Chef don't you?"  
"Of course I do, are your folks home now?"  
"Yeah, why?" he stood near the phone.  
"Oh no, you're not calling the police are you? No please don't he's with South Park Police department".  
"Mkay calm down, I'll tell them to keep their sirens off mkay, he needs to be thrown in jail, abusing a child is a criminal offence, why didn't you tell anyone before?"  
"He scared me and John, my brother into keeping quiet".  
"Mkay", he dialled 911, "Hello this is Counselor Mackey, I have to report a case of child molestation, but before you dispatch tell them to keep the lights and sirens off mkay, let me get his details up, mkay he lives at 23 Hungerford House South Park, call me when he's in custody, mkay thank you".  
"Ok they're on their way to arrest your dad, you understand why we did this?"  
I nod, "Thank you Mr Mackey".  
"I think it's best if I stayed with you here until the police have taken your father away, would that be ok?"  
I nod again, he sighed, "I couldn't imagine the pain you had to endure".  
"I think I'll be fine going to my class now", I sniffle.  
"Are you sure? We can stay here if you'd like… to avoid the curious questions your classmates might have".  
"No I'll be fine, I need to speak to Stan anyway".  
"Mkay, well if you need to talk then my office is always open".  
"Thanks Mr Mackey".

Michael's mother is chopping up vegetables when she heard the door knock, she opened the door to see two officers at the door.  
"Yes officers, how can I help?"  
"Is your husband home?"  
"Yes he's upstairs, why?"  
"We had a call by the school from the counselor".  
"What? Oh no he spilled".  
"Look Ma'am child molestation and abuse can't be tolerated".  
They took off upstairs and busted down the bedroom door to him and John in bed.  
"What the fuck?"  
"Mr Swain I'm arresting you for child abuse and molestation you don't have to say anything, but anything you do say maybe used as evidence", as he was put in handcuffs, the other took a photograph of the scene, John is in the room, as the officers led him out, they recognised him.  
"My God and we let you on the force, pervert".  
He is brought down by police with him begging his wife to tell the truth, but all she could muster up with was, "The truth is you're a liar and a pervert, take him away".

I went to the classroom and the room went silent, this made me uncomfortable, Mr Garrison had a plate of food for me. "Here you go Michael, have some party food".  
"Thanks Mr Garrison", I went over to Stan, "Stan, can I talk to you a moment?"  
"Sure".  
"Look I know I've been a Scrooge, I shouldn't have blown you off like that, it's just family problems led to me feeling stressed and stuff".  
"What's going on Michael?" he hugged me in a friendly way with his arm around my back.  
"I have been abused by my father ok".  
The room was silent and Butters walked up to me and took me by my hand to a desk, "That's horrible, but I thought your parents loved you".  
"No Butters, only my mum loves me".  
"Why didn't she stop him?"  
"He abused her too, but enough about this we have a Christmas Party to celebrate".  
Mr Mackey knocked on the door attracting my attention, "What does he want?" I muttered.  
"I have just been informed that your father is in custody".  
That statement felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, "Great thank you, Merry Christmas Mr Mackey".  
"Merry Christmas to you Michael I hope this Christmas is a happy one".  
"Thanks".

I walked in and Mr Garrison sat with me, "Is everything ok?"  
"Yeah I told Mr Mackey to call the police and they've just arrested him".  
"Ok well if you need anything more to catch up on the work let me know ok".  
"Will do Mr Garrison, Merry Christmas".  
"Merry Christmas Michael, I hope you be happy for a change", Mr Garrison winked.  
The bell rang for Christmas vacation, the kids ran out the classrooms in cheers, I'm actually excited for a change. I climbed on the bus with the biggest grin on my face.  
"Ah Christmas I wonder what Santa will bring?"  
"Hey Stan", I sat with him.  
"Oh hey Michael, look we understand now why you wouldn't tell us, we're sorry for pushing you like that".  
"Hey it's no biggie now that my dad's gone, I can have guests. Oh and Stan can I ask you something?"  
"Yeah Michael", Stan turned to me.  
"Are you still getting me a gift?"  
"Of course I am Michael, seeing as you won't get anything this year".  
"Actually I might this year".  
"Really, but you said…"  
"I know what I said… the truth is I do get gifts, my dad takes them from me and pretends that I've been naughty and been put on the naughty list".  
"Oh dude, I'm sorry that happened to you".  
"It's ok".

The bus pulled outside my house, I stood there thinking, "What's my mum going to think?"  
I walked into the front door and there was just mum and she came over and gave me a big hug.  
"Michael, I should've stopped him, but he's gone now and he's never coming back".  
"Thank goodness".  
"Michael", my brother ran to me and wrapped his arms around me, "Thank you for getting rid of him, he was about to molest me again and the police came and took him away".  
"I knew if I told, something would be done", I looked at mum who had a sympathetic look on her face.  
"I know I should've done more to stop him, but please can you forgive me?"  
"Well forgive entirely no, but I think he scared you into protecting him so that part I will forgive you for".  
"Ok fair enough, John can you go into the loft and bring the decorations down".  
"Yippee!" yelled John as he ran upstairs.  
"I need to pop out, do you want anything?"  
"No mum, I'm ok".  
"Right, while I'm out you two decorate the house how you like it, impress me", she smiled, "See you later".  
"What's for dinner?"  
"Oh I'll bring back dinner, um help yourself to snacks to put you on".  
"Thanks mum".

Mum went out to her car and drove off leaving me and John to decorate the house, "Hey let's put up the tree".  
"Great idea", replied John as he opened the box containing the tree.  
"Ooh finally a Christmas without dad abusing us".  
"Yeah, it feels good", John taking out the Christmas tree.

Within the time my mum going out and come back, we worked wonders with the house. The lounge finally has light, evaporating the gloomy darkness that our father left. For once Christmas songs played in the background while John and I decorated the house to look festive for a change and I believe the devil has been exorcised from the cupboard under the stairs, finally. The cupboard is now used as a utility storage room for the vacuüm and the Christmas decorations as a way to distinguish change. Mum came home and we were still doing our decorating, "Wow this looks great".  
"Thanks mum".

We slept soundly every night in peace and contentment as our father rots in jail where he belongs, I just hope they don't release him. The silver lining to this ordeal is we get to finally celebrate Christmas the right way. No raping, no punishment and no abuse, just us as a family soaking up the festive time of year and have fun.

At last the 25th December came and we wake up tiredly at 6am to a sight to behold, presents! Lots and lots of presents, piled high in multiple stacks. I couldn't believe my eyes, I came down in my PJs that consisted of a blue footed onesie with a race-car on. Looking at the gifts Santa had left, I squealed with joy and ran downstairs, "I knew it! John was right all along, you see me now dad, I'm getting presents and a proper family to spend Christmas with and I'm not worthless!"  
"Oh good morning", I heard my mum say behind me, I turn around and see her smiling.  
"Morning mum, Merry Christmas", I chanted.  
"Merry Christmas Michael, before you open anything I want to give you both something", she pulled out a card, "Why don't you read it out aloud?"  
"Ok", John tore it open and pulled out a card, "Dear my boys, I want to say I'm sorry for the heartache I've let your father do to you, I know I should've left him and took you both with me, but he scared us all into his control, it wasn't fair on both of you. I'd understand if you're still angry with me, but I assure you both that he's not coming back ever, all he's getting for Christmas is a divorce. I love you boys… so much. Lots of love, Mum", John and I wept as we read this and hugged our mum who held us tighter than she ever has done before.

Christmas for us is finally normal, we have Christmas dinner as a family, open presents as a family and sing Christmas songs as a family. I recon 2014 will be a glorious year for me to heal.


End file.
